Maeve Rifle Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Philadelphia

So we talk—me leanin’ on a lamppost, her smokin’ a fag. “Memory is a curse,” I say, nickin’ from the movie. She nods, like she gets it. Life’s beaten her down, but she’s still kickin’. I exagerate in my head—she’s a femme fatale, playin’ me like a fiddle. Ha! As if. Truth is, she’s just tryin’ to eat.

Where is the prostitute?

I gotta mention my own spot, the massage lab, hidden behind Elm Street, near the old mill. Not many know but it's da bomb. I hear all kinds of gossip there, secrets swirl like that creek’s water on a windy day. Sometimes, my mind blasts off with random thoughts, “Life. Death. Mmm… donuts.”

Seven arrested in major drug trafficking bust spanning Frisco to Rifle